A Savage Inconvenience
by essenceanddescent
Summary: Copyright 2017 Richelle Tallowman. All rights reserved Mr. Quinlan finds himself in a most precarious situation. Alone, wounded and restrained, he is forced, yet again, to chose between his humanity and his survival. ℹ This story follows the TV Canon directly, taking place after Season 3. It also uses and expands upon existing Novels/Graphic Novels canon to weave it all together.
1. 1 1 - Catch

When he woke, the first thought to cross his mind wasn't that he was incapable of moving, but rather the burning pain had completely subsided and he was _alive_. As his eyes began their timid initial movement to open, the bright light that flooded in caused him to wince and his body gave a slight jolt. And it was with this sudden movement that he realized he was utterly restrained and his head _throbbed._

With several blinks, his eyes adjusted slowly to the brightness. He hated the light; it overwhelmed his heightened senses, even now after so many years. He immediately moved to reach for his glasses …. 'No, I can't move … that's right.' The thoughts rolled across his mind as he came to terms with the severity of his current weakness. He was disgusted with himself for being in this state; he knew better, but again … he was alive. The memories of last night were only flashes … last night? It was daylight now, but he knew he really wasn't sure how long now it had been, but … thank the gods the pain was gone. This meant the silver rounds had been removed.

As the small room around him slowly bounced into sharp focus, he quickly realized what was restraining him. In other circumstances, this would have proved to be quite humorous, but he didn't find it funny now. He found it embarrassing and inconvenient. He was affixed to each side of a small metal bed frame with … Duct Tape. He blinked and looked around at himself again … Duct tape? Yes. Yes … _Duct Tape_. A _LOT_ of it. He quickly noted enough was used to leave 3 empty spindles sitting on the floor just a few feet from the bed.

Both of his arms were attached, solidly, from wrist to mid humorous, and his legs, from knee all the way to ankle. And he could feel the tape secured tightly around his mouth. It had been wrapped around his entire head. He had no idea how many times, but looking at the three empty spindles again, he imagined quite a few.

What had happened? The memories were fierce but they were just barely trickling in. 'Oh yes …' he thought to himself as one particular flash grazed past his conscience. He remembered they had been … they had been trying to hold him down … he remembered the pain, and then the need and the hunger had completely overwhelmed him … he had attacked them. The blinding pain and need to survive had driven him back to his animal instincts, but that was the last thing he remembered.

Them? … no, that wasn't right. There was only one and if he remembered correctly, it was a her. It was a tiny her. He couldn't remember anything other than her tiny frame as she struggled to get his silver bullet riddled body inside, and away from the impending strigoi assault. He had leaned heavily against her as they navigated the internal maze of hallways of the industrial building.

In his natural state, he would have been able to rip through the makeshift restraints, but he was surprised at their confining strength. He considered if he should be more surprised at his state of weakness, rather than their strength, but he shrugged this mental debate off quickly; his inability to focus on the task at hand was due to the fatigue. _GODS DAMN IT,_ _ **focus**_ … he commanded.

Dropping his head back onto the pillow, he began the futile attempt to rattle the frame loose. If he couldn't rip the damn tape, then maybe he could break the frame apart enough to free a hand to allow him to unwind it. The frame was sturdy and his body weight held it down snugly, and god damnit, he was _weak_. He needed to feed. His body would heal fast, but it had already been over a day since he last ate even before the excursion to the old factory in the first place.

He closed his eyes tightly and breathed out heavily through his nostrils. Trying to rock himself free had done nothing but exhaust him further, and his frustration on his current state caused his heart to start pounding. Damnation! He had things that he needed to do, important things … He had a **_DESTINY_** to fulfill! He is **_THE BORN_** , gods damnit … the born, now tied to a rusty bed with bloody _Duct Tape_. He quickly decided that if he survived this experience, there would be NO mention of this to anyone … especially Goodweather or Fet … wait, another memory rattled lose from the spider web of his clouded thoughts. Goodweather, Fet, Setrakian, Gus and Dutch. Oh gods …

His eyes darted open quickly as he realized he had no idea what happened to rest of the team. When they had become overwhelmed, he had lead the strigoi away from them. Did they get away? His frustration finally culminated into a disgruntled moan and he pulled once more at both of his arms with as much strength as he could manage before collapsing back into the uncomfortably thin mattress. Then, he heard the soft and distant footsteps trespass into his ears.

She was returning.


	2. 1 2 - Catch

Her steps were distant still. He guessed he had a few moments before she would arrive. He used that time to finally survey his immediate surroundings. It was a small room, concrete walled with a solid metal door. He noticed the makeshift metal latch supports on either side of the door. They had been pieced together with metal fittings and drilled into the concrete with massive lag bolts. He assumed this was done by her, as the dust from drilling still covered the floor around the door and the cordless drill itself sat on the floor idly next to the right of the frame. The metal crossbar that obviously would rest inside of the supports was standing vertical and leaning against the wall just to the right of the door itself.

Before finally panning right with his survey, he noted the bedding that had been bunched up behind the entrance. The door opened to the inside of the room, and though the crossbar gave some added security, he assumed she had been sleeping on the floor behind the door, and not on the bed at all. Likely driven by paranoia of being ambushed while she slept, he conjectured. But, whatever the reason, it was obvious she had been here for a while.

There was a small table with a corresponding small metal chair in the far corner. A plethora of items covered the dirty little table. Empty and full cans of food, bags of nuts, trail mixes, candy bars, bags of chips, bottles of water. Yes, there obviously had been some pilfering of the building's vending machines. Along with the foods, a couple of first aid kits and lots of various tools.

The small chair itself is what immediately caught his eye, for this was the resting place of his coat and his weapons. Thank the gods, _his weapons_! The bone sword was still sheathed inside of the leather back harness. The guns and his dagger rested on the seat, along with his _boots_. Ugh, she had taken off his boots … embarrassment crept over him one more time. He surveyed himself yet again, and found that was the only article, other than his coat, that she had removed. At least she hadn't stripped him like Dr. Goodweather had done. **That curious bastard**.

He looked around his body for the entry points of the bullets, and found large circular patterns had been cut out to allow her to gain access. He affirmed this suspicion as his eyes caught the glimpse of the large pair of scissors among the other tools on the table. The pieces of rent clothing were strewn across the floor. She had been in a hurry and she had worked fast. The wounds at the center of the holes were hidden with gauze and medical tape. He mused to himself: 'unnecessary', but a standard human assumption. The doctor had spent considerable time stitching his last wounds the last time he had been shot, but they would have healed either way. His thoughts on his boots subsided as he assumed the boots were removed due to their silver claws causing possible damage to the bed and mattress. Fair enough.

While observing the presence of the scissors, he noticed the large metal forceps covered in a distinctive white goo. Next to the forceps, he saw the pile of shiny bits that had riddled his body into defectiveness. He couldn't count how many comprised the pile, but he surmised that it was easily over a dozen. He conceded that he should indeed be dead.

He sighed … it had been a millennia since he had been that foolish. They assumed that they had the drop on The Master, but something had been off. They assumed this to be his base of operations, but nothing was here. This hadn't been his nesting place. 'Enough Quintus,' he told himself squarely, 'you will have more time to self assess _after_ this … predicament.'

Finishing up his audit of the room, a number of small cubed boxes, roughly 6" in size, lined the back wall. _Curious_ … everything else in the room was in complete disarray, but these boxes had been hoarded with obvious care. Stacked and seemingly organized: 48 boxes total, lined up in a 6x8 grid. No, that wasn't right, it was 2 deep, so 96 boxes total. _Curious, indeed_. A number of large batteries and empty ceramic-based dome lights shared the rest of the small wall with the intriguing little boxes.

There were no windows and only one entry way. This was a place of last stand. A makeshift panic room, at best. She was a survivor and he took note that she had likely been here for a while. Weeks? No, more likely months. Perhaps since the fall of New York? That was now two months passed. Or possibly since even the beginning of the outbreak?

Her footsteps continued to close the distance between them. He stared at the bottom of the door and at the sunlight peaking through. Odd, he had assumed it was daylight, but the light seemed off. A human would not likely have noticed the spectrum difference, but it wasn't direct sunlight. It was close and bright and his preternatural eyes could tell the UV that emanated from it, but it was not fluorescent. It was much stronger.

The entire situation seemed more curious than precarious now. He was alive and that was because of her somehow. His position relaxed as he realized if she had wanted him dead, he likely wouldn't be … _erm_ … restrained and alive. If she had wanted him dead, he simply would have never woken up.


	3. 1 3 - Catch

His mind darted back to the light under the door, and the events of that night finally worked their way out of his silver agony induced stupor. The light, that light … Yes. He remembered it distinctly.

They had forced him on his knees before the _Lap Dog_. The blood loss and the silver had prevented him from properly fighting back against the two strigoi who held him down on either side. Four more stood directly behind him. Even in his current state, they were terrified of what he might be able to do. _Rightly so_.

He had looked up into the German's cold eyes, and they exchanged some unnecessary banter before the Nazi had raised a gun and pointed it distinctly between his eyes.

He had failed … after two thousand years, he had failed. Was this not his destiny? Was he not supposed to defeat The Master? What had he missed? He had failed _them_ ; he had failed _Ancharia_ and he had failed _**her**_.

He considered closing his eyes, but instead locked gazes with the Lap Dog and simply smiled, " _Finish it_." At least he would be free and he had grown so very tired over the years.

Then there had been _that light._ It was as if someone had flipped a switch and turned on the sun itself. The room flooded with an intense burst of UV that baked all strigoi within its immediate shine: all the parasites that had been surrounding him, save only for Eichhorst. He remembered the German let out the most satisfying whimper before he quickly clawed his jacket over his face and used his impressive speed to bolt for the door. Damn … if he had been 4 inches closer, he would have been in its direct path and would not have been able to run. Damnation.

Without the support of his two guards, Quintus had fallen forward onto all fours. The silver was burning his insides with any and all movement. Hell, it was burning his insides with no movement either. He rocked back and sat on his heels to look up at the figure that moved apprehensively towards him.

It seemed large at first, but he immediately noted that the stature was quite short. It was too difficult for him to gauge properly from his perspective. He realized the figure itself wasn't large, rather the clothing it was wearing was though; obviously not meant for the size of the human that was inhabiting it. He saw a face hidden under the hood, but he was unable to make out any details. The pain blurred things. The silver needed to come out, it was killing him.

The figure continued to approach him, and he saw the glint of a knife in its right hand. He decided to be offensive, but his initial attempt to regain his footing failed and he met the floor with extreme intimacy. On his collapse, the figure stopped its approach and pulled its hood back.

Quintus squinted. The silver fever had already begun and he sneered, _**"FINISH IT!"**_ It had been both a sneer and a plea at the same time, a combination of anger and desperation. He wanted a quick death, a warrior's death. To die from the silver fever would be agonizing.

It wasn't until he heard her soft voice, that he realized she was a woman. Her voice was high in pitch but soft in delivery. It gave an air of too much youth, but as he squinted at her dirty face further, he saw she was likely older than she sounded … at least slightly.

"What … " she hesitated and began again, her voice trembled … "What _**are**_ you?"


	4. 1 4 - Catch

When the small group first arrived, she had considered it a burden. In normal circumstances, since society had fallen, the presence of both " _the mindless ones_ " (as she had come to dub them) and humans proved dangerous, but since the _mindless ones_ were in full force tonight across _her_ factory, she hoped that they would give her a much needed distraction to steal away into the night. She had scouted other " _strongholds_ " as she liked to call them, in the other factories that surrounded the area. These might hold her through the night. She would come back for her most important supplies in the morning …

But, the humans had arrived first and she had watched them carefully from her 4 story perch. They drove into the parking lot and clumsily exited their vehicle. They were loud and almost unorganized, save for one. She observed him exit and stand eerily still as he scouted the area and his companions readied themselves for some kind of assault. They had weapons … _lots_ of weapons. That was good for them and likely bad for her. She would avoid any contact where possible. People had become savages since the end, and she had survived only by cutting ties with humanity entirely. Though, she had to learn that the hard way; she shoved those rough memories from her mind for now. It wasn't healthy to dwell on the past … look forward.

She turned her attention back to the one that didn't belong. He was dressed in all black and sported a hood, similar to her own. She knew why she hid her face, and she wondered why he would need to hide his. _Interesting_. She was too far to make out any details, but as he scanned the buildings, his gaze stopped in her direction.

 _"Oh shit"_

Her mind raced and she pulled back and out of sight immediately; her heart began to pound unnecessarily hard.

 _"Oh shit_ … did he see me?"

Her internal dialog started to converse with itself. She'd been the only one to talk to for a while now and she'd become quite comfortable with arguing with herself. She'd convinced herself it was a sign of sanity to remain conversational, but on some level she knew it was more likely indicative of impending madness.

 _"No, don't be dumb, he couldn't have seen you."_ _"Dude, he looked_ _ **DIRECTLY**_ _at us."_ _"He was scanning around, there's no way. You've made sure that you can't see your perch and your eyes are 20/20."_ _"Maybe he saw a glimmer of something? Did I do something dumb?"_

She quickly scanned herself up and down for any metal that might have caused a shine. Nope, knife sheathed and everything else that might shine was on the floor to the right of her. Nope, its alright, she's just going mad … again. She moved back to her vantage point and looked down at the group. She froze as he was still staring directly at her direction. Had he _HEARD_ her? _No fucking way_. She had learned to be quiet, nearly silent. Her heart pounded further, and she realized she needed to relax. The _mindless_ would hear her heart. They would smell her blood pumping. She breathed deeply and continued to watch the group.

His gaze shifted away from her direction to the old man that was approaching and he pulled his hood back, finally revealing his face. Her eyes widened and her previous curious thought about the need for the hood was now answered … he was one of them. From her perspective, she was unable to make out details, but she knew that first thought wasn't entirely true. She would need a closer look, but he was not entirely one of them. And then, he spoke "Professor, we need to move inside." and he gave a quick gesture to the surrounding buildings, "We are too exposed here and I do not think we are alone."

He spoke, but he didn't have _the one_ 's voice. When the red had taken over the mindless' eyes, they always spoke with the same voice, well … save for the Shiny Man. He was the only one that had a voice of his own. His accent was distinctly different that _the one_ 's, but she was too far to see if his eyes _danced with the red_.

She watched in silence as they had approached the entrance to building 2. What happened next would answer any possible concerns that she had. Each building entrance sported two double flood light motion triggered lights on either side of the door. The monsters could sense UV, she'd discovered, unless you mixed it with other light. When she had first tested out her theory, their reaction had brought her _MUCH_ delight. She had replaced only one of the flood lights with the strongest of the mercury vapor bulb light: 3 standard lights and 1 " **POWER OF THE SUN** " bulb. She liked the marketing slogan of that bulb very much. Well done, **Repti-Supplies** , the name of the company that had once owned her factory. But, it was _hers_ now.

This slogan had caused her much delightment too … her mind stuttered.

"Hmm, _delightment_? I don't think that's a real word."

She frowned but quickly decided that she liked it anyways, and she would try to use it more often; there were no REAL words anymore. Who would complain now? This was the end of the world, yo and creativity needs to live on. Right? She waited for herself to answer, but her observation shifted back to the ground below.

A mountain of a man was in the lead and as he approached the door, the lights clicked on and flooded over the area. The tall, scrape of a woman gave out a tiny high pitched squeak at the sudden light and the pale one flashed her a look of pure disapproval. "Sorry, sorry." she offered up. She hadn't said enough, but it was enough to pick up some kind of accent. Too little to determine what it was. The _pale man_ moved past her and the mountain man smoothly and stepped into the light to push the door open.

She blinked …

"Waaat?"

… nothing had happened. The entire group had now entered the building and closed the door behind them and nothing had happened to the _pale man_.

"What the fuck?"

She sat, transfixed on the happening for far too long. They would quickly move through building 2, as it was just offices and reception. She'd already cleaned it all out of anything that they might want. She had to be patient for now.

She was currently in building 3 and her _"stronghold"_ in building 1. It had the least number of entrances; it was easiest to protect and easiest to booby trap. Though, none of her booby traps, being UV based, would not affect the humans, or apparently the _pale man_ either; his presence made her uneasy. She'd found that the humans usually didn't offer up much of a necessity for any traps in general. She was able to hide from them; as she noted again, she had learned to be quiet.

She didn't know why they were here, but she assumed they would be making their way through the buildings. Did someone finally come to their senses about what was produced here? If so and they had come here for the bulbs, they would be sorely mistaken. She chuckled to herself as she had already confiscated them all and hidden them accordingly.

She would wait for them to finish in building 2 and make her way to hide there. There were a couple of places that she knew she could wait them out. She considered heading to the " _stronghold_ " but quickly dismissed the idea. If they found it, even if she was barricaded in, they could break it down. No, she would not risk it. There were too many of them for her to possibly beat. She had counted 7 total, 6 men and 1 woman. Well, 6 humans and 1 "something else". Not good odds. She would play this safe. As long as they didn't think they had a reason to return, they would leave disappointed and empty handed.

Each building was connected via a second story walkway to the adjacent building, save for buildings 1 and 4, due to the road into the mini-complex. Building 1 was connected to Building 2, Building 2 was connected to Building 3 and so on. The walkways had windows and she would see them leave the building from her current position, regardless of how they chose to exit.

Good solid plan … until, the _mindless ones_ arrived.


	5. 1 5 - Catch

It was nearly sunset and the sky became brilliant with vivid colors. Normally, she would stop and enjoy this, but she was in a hurry and she increased her pace to get back to the safe location. She had left the generator running and the hallway lights on just in case she wasn't able to make it back before the sun and its protecting presence crept out of sight.

It had been a day and half and he hadn't woken yet. He had said to remove the silver and she attempted to do so while he was still conscious. She remembered his last words before the _ordeal_ happened: "I will need blood … ", then it was mere moments when something primordial awoke within him and he had lunged at her. And damn, he was _strong_ , even in his broken state; she shuddered to think what his full fortitude might be and she hoped she wouldn't eventually regret finding out.

Until the weapon had erupted from his mouth, she had thought him almost human and honestly, quite striking in some strange way. Ugh, _weapon_ was such a strange term, but she had no other word to describe it. She'd been attacked by the _mindless_ and she'd seen it used on others to drain them. It killed for them, so _weapon_ seemed like a good all purpose term until someone would offer her up a better explanation. Her internal dialogue was silent on this request.

Whatever it was, it was _fast_ , but he was clumsy and she had moved quickly to grab the metal crossbar, swinging it up and around smoothly like a bat. The metal connected precisely with his temple and he crumpled onto the floor.

"Holy fuck." She was surprised that she had actually said that out loud. Other than asking him what he was, she wasn't sure when the last time she had actually spoken had been.

She had been practicing with the bar, just in case. It was quite a bit heavier than a bo staff, with which she was more familiar, but the same motions seemed to apply. She had used it as a reason for exercise as well. " _Remember the first rule!_ " she would chime to herself … " **CARDIO**." That was a good movie; ah … she _missed_ movies.

But the training had made her a deal stronger, and the force at which it connected with his head showed that. Mr. Parker, her childhood sensei, would have been proud of her. She tried to push this thought out of her mind as she knelt beside the creature now unconscious on her floor. The thought resiliently persisted.

"No, Mr. Parker is dead, so he's not proud of anything anymore." In fact, she pondered, everyone that she knew as likely gone … gone or _mindless_. But, Mr. Parker hadn't been _mindless_ ; he had died of cancer. He'd been a good teacher, the best teacher. She was never able to find another that she liked after his passing. She tried, but nothing stuck, and she had eventually abandoned training all together. He would _not_ have been proud of _that_. But, she was sure that what she had learned had managed to help her stay alive. Yes, he was gone but _never forgotten_. And she was alive because of him and what he taught her.

She saw his body heave with a heavy breath. Good, he was _still_ breathing. She was relieved that she hadn't killed him and she pulled his limp frame over and onto his back. This was the first time she was able to take in his full visage. Fascinating. He wasn't entirely one of the mindless, she noted now, he shared features with them, but something was more hu— … her internal dialog sharply activated and interrupted her:

"What do _you_ do now?" "What do _I_ do now?" "He just tried to kill you. I would think that the best course of action is to let him bleed out or put him out of his obvious misery." "I don't know. It doesn't feel righ-" "He just tried to _KILL YOU._ _ **KILL**_ _US._ This is how you survive, _little lady._ "

She hated it when she mansplained things to herself.

 _"_ _ **STOP**_. We saved him. We _CHOSE_ to save him. We didn't wait until the _Shiny Man_ was over the line and in our _DAMN TRAP_ to spring it. We chose _his_ life over revenge." "It was the wrong choice. What are you gonna do now?"

She surveyed the room and her available tools. The sun was just starting to peak over the horizon and she needed to remove the silver, and, he would need *gulp* **blood**? She could help with the former, but she wasn't sure about the latter.

First thing's first … she would need to restrain him and she would need that pair of forceps she had seen on the factory floor in building 4. She needed to hurry. He was dying.


	6. 1 6 - Catch

The no-kill traps were in the custodian's office of building 1. She'd found them early on and took note. Eventually, she has speculated she would run out of the vending machine food she'd hoarded and she cringed at the thought of eventually having to trap and cook her own food. The trapping and cooking weren't exactly the thing that had made her cringe, but rather the _killing_ part.

Unfortunately, the traps hadn't been used in a while as they apparently had been exchanged for the use of the three boxes of warfarin that shared the shelf with the rusted contraptions. It didn't take her long to figure out how to use them, but they were old and large _and_ clunky.

At first, she considered just setting the traps up around _her_ factory, but she'd never seen a rat, and concluded that since the poison had already likely been used (in hindsight, she guessed that was something she was glad about), so she knew she would need to set the traps elsewhere. Not sure if the _Pale Man_ would fair very well with anticoagulants running through him. She wondered, in passing, what affect warfarin might have on the _mindless_ , but she thought it would be best to address that hypothesis later, if at all. _Tomorrow_ maybe.

In all honestly, she loved liked animals, including mice and rats, more than she actually liked humans themselves. She'd even had pet rats growing up and the thought of killing something innocent disgusted her, but not as much as it once did. Surviving was not something for the weak of heart; that was something she had come to terms with several times over.

One of the traps was rusted beyond hope, but the other four proved worthy of attempt. She'd taken her last candy bar rummaged out of the vending machine in building 2 and baited each trap. It was a Payday and she was immediately bummed because she had saved it until the end; it was her favorite. She sneaked a tiny bite of the last piece, sighed and wondered if that would be her last taste of the _glorious_ creation.

She'd given up all candy and junk food years before the end happened in an attempt to comply with beauty standards and lose weight to fit into some preconceived notion of what she needed to look like. All of that seemed silly now. She'd given up years of Paydays for what exactly? Exactly. But, she digressed and she returned to the task at hand.

There were several factories surrounding Repti-Supplies but she was weary to set any traps there. She would have to clear the buildings. And there wasn't really time for that. She dismissed those possibilities completely when she realized they might have used poison also. She decided to venture farther into the vacant lots that she had seen to the south. It was about a two mile walk, and she would be out in the open, but she decided the risk might prove fruitful.

Four traps, four lots. Done. This had been done the day before and the plan had been to come back earlier the next day, but she kept forgetting that she also needed to sleep. Her schedule had completely been offset due to the happenings of the other night, and she had overslept far too much. It didn't help that the "stronghold" had no windows or natural lighting, just a fluorescent bulb that she had rigged up to a battery.

She often thought perhaps she should use one of the UV bulbs, but her freckled skin would likely revolt against that idea. At least that was something her and the _mindless_ had in common. They were both allergic to the sun.

She had hurried and found the first trap empty. _Shit_. A concern had mounted in her mind at this time … "Had the _mindless_ killed them all?" This entire effort might just be pointless. Her concern mounted further when she couldn't find the second trap immediately. Scouring the lot, she eventually discovered it, ripped apart and covered in blood.

Fuck.

She considered turning back entirely at this point. She'd wasted too much time searching for the second trap and the sun hung scarily low on the horizon.  
If she turned back now, what would she feed him if he woke up? Her mind hung on the "if".

"He might not even wake up, and you are putting yourself in danger for what exactly?" "No. I'll check the third trap at least. If he does wake up, he's _not_ eating me."

She continued on and was relieved to find the third trap immediately, intact … but empty.

Her mind returned to previous conversation that it had held.

"Come on … why? Its now becoming late." "Well … the second trap obviously caught _something_ , so there is still _something_ to catch. Fourth times a charm?"

* * *

" _Crap_."

She watched the sun depart over the horizon and she was still a good 10 minutes from the safety of the factory. " **Cardio** " she tried to motivate herself further, but she couldn't. She was exhausted and out of breath entirely. She'd really never been good at cardio and fuck, having short legs wasn't helping matters at all. Seriously … why couldn't she have been taller?

She fumbled the fourth trap in her hands and she heard the small creature sliding around inside of it. She left the other two traps, still baited, in the lot that she had picked up the successful fourth. She might get lucky again? Meh, if not she would get them later. Right now, they would have just slowed her down.

"I'm sorry," she repeated to poor dinner within. But, she knew if she was the rat, she wouldn't give a shit about apologies at this point in time.

When she made it to the safety of the building, she stopped to breath for a moment.

" _Calm your breath. They might hear you._ "

The _mindless_ would be back tonight. They would be back _every_ night since. She had turned off all the light traps and barricaded herself fairly well and remained silent while he slept. She had hoped they would give up and move on if they thought she had as well, but they hadn't. _Sneaky bastards_. She knew by blatantly saving him, she had outed her location. Now it was just a matter of time before _they_ … before _it_ would find her.

She knew it was simply too risky to stay another night, but she had no choice. As much as she appreciated this place, it was time to move on. The _Pale Man_ had become an inconvenience to her now, one that might cost her her freedom and possibly her life. But, she wouldn't leave him there and he needed to be awake before they could move.

She rounded the corner, and came down the basement stairs. Around the bend and into the locker rooms, then through the showers and beyond. Every time she passed this area, she mused how nice it would have been if the water was still running. She hadn't showered in weeks and then she stopped suddenly as the inaccuracy of that thought actually sunk in.

She smelled herself and winced, "Weeks? Or has it been months?" In the beginning, she had tried to count the days, but she quickly gave it up. It was almost torturous to know, so she let go of that part of her humanity. The only time that mattered now was the idea of _tomorrow_.

She came to the hidden doorway. She wasn't sure what the room was, but it had a bed in it, and it was secure. She imagined it was used as a napping room for the night security guard at some point, but had been abandoned with the advent of modern cameras and security technology.

The door was completely invisible to anyone simply walking by. When she had first come up with the idea, she thought herself brilliant. With a couple of tubes of Liquid Nails, she had glued boxes onto the door itself. It opened outward, so the boxes were laid out in such a way that it overlapped the frame entirely.

She'd always wanted a hidden room in her house, something with a hidden door behind a bookcase or something, and she always got a feeling of excitement when she opened the door. Reaching into the box on the right, she'd cut a hole out to allow her to reach the handle, then she would push the box shut again.

Almost _home_.

Through the door. Good, the lights were still running. She had strung up a good number of ceramic-based dome lights across the entire run of the short hallway and the generator that powered the lights was softly purring on the far end of the way. She pulled the door shut behind her and flicked the generator off as she passed. She needed to save the gas and they would be back, so she needed to be in stealth mode. She mused to herself, " _because they mostly come out at night … mostly_ ," and then she stopped in her tracks, completely horrified.

"Oh my god, I've become _Newt_." "Its alright … Newt was on the ONLY one that had lived, remember?" She scoffed at her thought, "She died in the third movie."

She clasped the door knob and opened it slowly. Shock encompassed her first, but it ultimately faded to relief as she found his steely white eyes staring back at her.

He was awake.

 ** _Finally_**.

Awake and _angry_.


End file.
